Chapter 115

After standing dazed for several moments, Fiona finally snapped back to her senses and demanded an explanation from Harold’s group. Naturally, it wasn’t Harold who deigned to answer her.

"As you can see, someone has been tampering with the interior of these shafts."

"…Could these reinforcements not have been part of the original construction?"

"If that were the case, why go through the trouble of camouflaging the brickwork?"

"That is…"

Deep down, Fiona likely knew something was horribly wrong. She offered no further counterarguments. However, her interrogation didn't stop there.

"Then who did this?"

"We have our suspicions, but since we lack definitive proof—and don't yet know their ultimate goal—I'll refrain from naming names for now."

Listening to the exchange, Harold walked deeper into the tunnel in silence. It’s nine times out of ten Justus, anyway, he grumbled inwardly.

After a short while, the man leading the way with the light came to a halt.

"We’re here."

It was a completely unremarkable stretch of the tunnel. There were no unusual features, nor did the path branch off. However, the man reached into his pocket, pulled out a silver, wedge-like object, and hammered it into the wall.

"Um, what is that?"

"A magic item. If you channel a little mana into it…"

The moment he spoke, the rock wall that should have been there vanished as if it had been cut out of reality.

"As you can see, it nullifies any magical effects within a specific range."

"…That looks like an incredibly rare artifact."

"I have a curious acquaintance who’s a bit of an aficionado when it comes to magic items."

The man skillfully parried Fiona's prying questions. She clearly had her reservations about his evasive attitude, but her curiosity regarding what lay hidden behind such elaborate trickery won out. She didn't push any further.

The hidden passage was revealed. At first glance, it looked like a normal branch of the mine, but as they walked further, the atmosphere shifted. It transformed into a purely artificial corridor, unmistakably man-made.

"What is all this…?"

Fiona’s voice trembled. This level of infrastructure was clearly beyond anything she had anticipated.

To Harold, the design was familiar—reminiscent of both modern Japan and Justus’s research labs—but to Fiona, who had spent almost her entire life in Burston, it was likely an alien sight. The fact that such a facility was tucked away inside a local mine only added to her shock.

"Don't just stand there gaping. Move it."

"Ah! W-Wait for me!"

Harold didn't wait for her to catch up; the heart of the matter lay further ahead.

The ceiling was lined with lights resembling fluorescent lamps, perhaps powered by electricity. Their hand-held lamps were no longer necessary. The rhythmic clack, clack of three sets of footsteps echoed through the inorganic hallway. Though the scouts had reported no signs of life other than monsters, it was hard to believe the place was truly deserted. Harold sharpened his senses, ready for anything.

His tension must have been contagious; Fiona and the guide fell silent, and the air grew thick with strain.

The straight corridor felt unnaturally long. Finally, a corner appeared ahead. Harold caught the guide's eye, and the man nodded silently.

Presumably, the sight the scouts had described lay just beyond. After confirming there were no human presences nearby, Harold rounded the corner.

The first thing he saw was a massive glass partition, easily four meters wide. It was curved, following the inner wall of a circular observation deck that overlooked the area below. There were also several doors along the corridor that looked like room entrances. If anyone stepped out now, they’d be spotted instantly.

(I don't want to linger here long.)

With that thought, Harold stepped up to the glass and looked down at the scene below.

It was a nightmarish sea of monsters, just like the one he had seen in the Sumeragi Territory. The report had estimated five thousand, but seeing them all crammed together made the number feel even more overwhelming.

"Eek…!"

Dealing with all of these is going to be a massive pain, Harold was thinking, when Fiona let out a sharp, muffled gasp beside him. She managed to swallow the rest of her scream, showing she had more backbone than she looked.

Even so, her brave facade had drained of all color. Looking at her, Harold had a sudden realization.

(If I stoke her anxiety now, I can probably get her to cooperate with the evacuation.)

It was a villainous thought, the kind of thing the "original" Harold would have done. Though his ultimate goal was benevolent, his habit of using any means necessary to survive in this world was starting to show its darker side.

"The objective is unclear, but these monsters are undoubtedly the reason this facility was built in secret."

That was a half-lie. While there was surely a reason for housing the monsters, Harold suspected the true purpose of such an elaborate facility was related to the Energy Portals. However, explaining that to Fiona would be pointless and overcomplicated, so he kept it to himself.

"W-Why would anyone do this?"

"I told you, the objective is unknown. Though, it's not hard to speculate based on the circumstances."

Fiona’s eyes pleaded with him for an answer. Finding out that such a horror was lurking beneath her town must have filled her with unimaginable terror. It was cruel, but as a member of the town council, she needed to feel that fear if she was going to be useful.

"The most likely scenario is a surface invasion using that horde. The shafts were likely widened specifically so they could pass through."

"Then… then…"

"It’s exactly what you’re thinking. Burston will be the first target."

Fiona’s face went even paler, as if she were visualizing the slaughter. She looked like she could barely stay on her feet. Harold felt a twinge of guilt, but he pushed it down, his pragmatic side calculating that this level of intimidation would make the coming negotiations much easier.

Suddenly, something else caught his eye. At the bottom of the Great Hollow, where the monsters were milling about, there was a massive set of doors meant for the horde. But ten meters above the floor, there was a smaller door, sized for a human.

What felt strange was the path leading to it. The rock wall had been crudely carved into steps, with basic iron railings for safety. It looked like a rush job, completely lacking the polished engineering seen in the rest of the facility.

No matter how he looked at it, the staircase seemed like an afterthought. While it was high enough to stay out of the monsters' reach, would Justus really build something so shoddy?

"Is something wrong, Lord Harold?"

"…It’s nothing. We’ve stayed long enough. We’re leaving."

He was curious, but he wouldn't know the truth without investigating, and now wasn't the time.

Leaving the shell-shocked Fiona to the guide, Harold took the lamp and led the way back out. He kept his hand on his sword, prepared for an ambush if their presence had been detected, but they made it out of the mine with anticlimactic ease. The round trip had taken about four hours.

"Hey. You."

"…Yes?"

Fiona, looking utterly exhausted, finally spoke. Under normal circumstances, he would have told her to rest, but he needed her to whip her tired mind and body into gear for one more task.

"What do you plan to do now?"

"What do I… well, I have to inform the others. No, if I just blurt it out, it’ll cause a panic. I should have the Town Head speak to the Lord first, then find a pretext to start the evacuation…"

Her brain was starting to function again as she began muttering a plan to herself.

"If you follow that protocol, how long until the evacuation actually begins?"

"…A month, at the earliest."

"And?" Harold glanced at the guide.

"To be honest, I doubt we have that long," the man replied.

"What makes you say that?" Fiona asked.

"We’ve identified other locations where monsters are being gathered. The ones we just saw are becoming highly active. They’ll likely make a move within the month."

"No…! Then what are we supposed to do!?"

"The town of Burston needs to take the lead, evacuate immediately, and seek the Lord's protection. If you don't move now, everyone in this town will die," the man stated flatly.

It was a difficult judgment call. Fiona didn't even have the ultimate authority to order an evacuation.

"If you don't like it, then gather the town's representatives. I'll disclose the information we have directly to them."

"And if you do, you think we can start the evacuation immediately?"

"Obviously."

"…Tomorrow at noon. I’ll gather everyone at the meeting hall."

"Good. And it should go without saying, but now that you've seen that place, you’re on our side."

"I know…"

Harold maintained his usual condescending tone. If this had been the Fiona from before they entered the mine, she would have snapped back, but she no longer had the energy. She disappeared into the town with heavy, dragging steps.

With that, the "preliminary preparations for the preliminary preparations" were more or less complete. All Harold could do now was pray that the situation remained stable until his rearguard arrived.

That’s enough for today, he decided, shifting his gears. It was a foregone conclusion that trouble would keep piling up until Rainer and the others stopped Justus’s plan. He needed to rest his mind and body while the opportunity lasted.

"Hey. Lead me to the inn."

"Certainly, Lord Harold. This way."

I never did catch this guy’s name, Harold realized, having missed the timing to ask as he followed him toward the inn where Keith was waiting.

His wounds had healed, but his stamina and motor functions weren't back to a hundred percent yet. He wanted to wash off the grime in a shower, fill his stomach, and pass out.

But for a man named Harold Stokes, even such small wishes were rarely granted. Just as the inn came into view, he spotted a commotion. A group of men were shouting in front of what looked like a tavern.

Drunks causing trouble before the sun’s even down? Harold thought, intending to walk past them.

...Or he would have, if he hadn't recognized the faces. They were members of Frieri.

(Hah? What are those idiots doing?)

He felt a flare of genuine irritation. They knew the gravity of the situation, so why were they picking fights?

He decided to suppress them by force before they caused any more trouble. Despite being former mercenaries, their behavior was incredibly childish. Harold, as usual, defaulted to the most direct solution.

He stepped in. Had he checked who they were arguing with first, he might not have intervened so carelessly.

"What the hell do you think you're doing…?"

"Gwah! Boss Harold?! No, wait, this isn't what it looks like!"

"Then what is it?"

"It’s a misunderstanding! A total misunderstanding!"

Cowed by the chilling aura radiating from Harold, the two Frieri members scrambled backward. Despite their terrified expressions, they tried to explain themselves.

"We were just eating a normal meal!"

"And the food was amazing! Seriously!"

How does that lead to a street brawl? Harold asked internally, gesturing for them to continue with his eyes.

"So we thought we'd try giving the chef a proper thanks!"

"Yeah! We thought it looked really cool! So we wanted to try it—"

"—Just like you did, Boss!"

"Hah?"

Their voices overlapped. "Just like the Boss," in this context, could only mean Harold.

Then, it clicked. Some time ago, when Frieri’s numbers had first started growing, Harold had hosted a small get-together to act as an introduction and a reward for their hard work.

Even though he’d booked the whole place, twenty-odd rough-and-tumble men eating and drinking was quite the spectacle. While they weren't being rowdy, it was an awkward atmosphere, so Harold had called for the chef once the party reached its peak.

To the outside observer, Harold was a mean-looking noble leading a pack of thugs. The staff had been terrified. Harold, wanting to keep things brief, had addressed the trembling chef curtly.

『The taste wasn't bad. Keep the change.』

With those words, he had tossed a bag of gold coins onto the table. It was far more than the meal was worth, even including a "trouble fee," but to Harold—who had plenty of funds from the LP farming method—it was just a tip.

Harold had thought he was acting like a cliché, arrogant noble, but to the drunken mercenaries, the gesture had apparently looked incredibly "cool."

"But since we look like thugs, we just ended up scaring the owner…"

"I don't doubt it."

"And then the people nearby thought we were shaking the guy down…"

"That’s what happens when idiots try to act sophisticated. You're hopeless."

""We're sorry…""

Again, their voices synced up. Still, if their story was true, they hadn't meant any harm. As their leader, it was his responsibility to settle the matter.

With a sigh, he turned toward the person they had been arguing with.

This time, it was Harold’s turn for his facial muscles to twitch—and not in a sneer.

The face still held a hint of youth, but it had clearly matured into that of an adult. However, the vibrant orange hair, reminiscent of a lion's mane, was exactly the same.

Harold recognized him instantly.

"A-Are you… Harold…?"

A man who had once been his comrade in the Knight Order, sharing the same path for a few short months.

Sid was standing right there.